


Don't Fear The Reaper

by whenden



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-18
Updated: 2015-12-18
Packaged: 2018-05-07 09:34:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5451887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whenden/pseuds/whenden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of short fics centered around Dean and Castiel.  Ratings fluctuate on each, though they're usually PG.  All fics are under 1K words.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rushing Out of Me

**Author's Note:**

> All of these have just been chillin' on my tumblr forever now, so I figured I'd post them up over here so I'd actually have more works. I made this account and I never post on it due to the fact that I rarely ever write over 1K. So yeah, here's all these drabbles!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- HSAU - Castiel's POV

I had never realized just how small and insignificant we were.

Standing at the edge of the ocean, I watch as the waves roll in, white tipped with foam and pulling the fog towards land. The beach is scattered with rocks, cliffs reaching up to the sky as if to touch Heaven itself, and I am utterly lost, clenching the sleeves of my overcoat in an attempt to keep the biting wind off of me.  
It took us a week to get here from Lawrence and in that space of time, Dean stopped us at every place that looked cool.

We took a one day detour just to get barbecue from a place he had heard about. He parked us in the middle of a field during a thunder storm just so we could watch the lightening and we sat there, with the Impala vibrating beneath us, for the entire night. We drove to the foot of the mountains and parked just to marvel at how obscenely wrong we were about how vast they would be.

Nothing had made me stop and question our slots in the world until Dean stopped us here. At this beach, in a town that I don’t even know the name of, in autumn when the trees are on fire in a child’s imagination, I feel like I am standing on the edge of the world.

I inhale deeply, the fresh scent of salt water sweeping over my senses as I watch the moonlight shatter and flicker over the waves. An unexpected warmth envelopes me as I exhale and I look back, leaning into Dean as he coils his arms around me tightly. He rests his chin on my shoulder and I watch his eyes move from my face to the ocean spread out before us.

We listen to the waves crash against the shore for several minutes in silence and the feeling of being lost at the edge of a world I can’t completely fathom slips away. It is replaced by warmth, by Dean holding onto me tightly, and by the pulse and breath I feel against me.

My lips quirk up, the smile trying to break through is slow, and then suddenly it is all I feel. Just a smile, just a nameless joy that I couldn’t begin to express.

Dean chuckles, the noise vibrating against me, causing my smile to grow even wider, if possible. “What?” he presses the syllables against my throat, his words their own variety of kiss, briefly tightening his hold on me.

“Nothing.” I roll my shoulders, realizing rather belatedly that I had been watching him since he came up behind me. “Just happy.”


	2. Hold Me Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- HSAU - Castiel's POV

It is well after six in the morning and the grass is wet with dew. The birds are singing, the insects finishing up their nightly hum, and Dean is still talking. Even as the sun starts to rise, it’s dull orange hues fractured by the fog and clouds, he keeps up a constant stream.  
He tells me about how he built the Impala from the ground up when he was fifteen. How he has enjoyed working at Bobby’s garage so far this summer, about Ellen and Jo and how much of a pistol Jo is turning out to be. He talks about Sam and Mary. Tells me how Sam keeps saying he wants to go to law school and how Mary is so accepting of him getting his GED. Dean mentions how that makes him feel, in passing, before going on to tell me of other things.

It has been like this all night; just Dean talking. Normally I wouldn’t mind, because he does this all the time. Right when we decide to go to sleep is when he starts, without fail. Usually I fall asleep around three in the morning when I have finally snapped at him to shut up, but tonight I couldn’t bring myself to.

I enjoy hearing him talk. Dean is usually much more reserved, but at night, when no one else is around, he will prattle on endlessly.

This morning, listening to him talk, I find myself minding very much. I’m exhausted and want nothing more than to sleep. We spent all of yesterday swimming in the pond we’re camping beside and every inch of me aches. A dull throb that needs sleep.

After a while, when the suns heat is more upon us, Dean falls silent and I let my eyes fall closed. I can hear him breathing beside me, feel the slight breeze playing in my hair, and the growing warmth. Letting out a contented sigh, I start to drift off.

Right at the cusp of dreams, I’m jolted awake with Dean’s lips against mine. He kisses me hard and desperate, like he’s trying to make himself believe that I’m still laying beside him. Fingers knot in my hair a moment later as his weight presses down against me and I kiss him back, an involuntary noise spilling past my lips.

A moment later he breaks the kiss, pressing his face into the crook of my neck as he shifts, holding onto me tightly. “Hey, Cas?”

I look down at the top of his head, slipping my fingers into his hair. “What, Dean?” my voice cracks, that familiar sleepy gravel lacing my words. I feel him smile against me, a slow one, one of those smiles that he doesn’t notice for a few seconds.

“Don’t ever change.” His words are quiet, almost inaudible, but when he mutters them, he tightens his hold on me, pressing more of his weight on me.

I press my lips to the top of his head to hide a smile, “I won’t.”


	3. Pressed Against

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- NSFW - Dean's POV

We’re sittin’ in the backseat of my car in the middle of winter. The snow’s at least a foot high against the tires and the windows are completely fogged up by now.

Well, ignoring Cas’ smeared hand print against the glass.

He’s gasping and moaning, trying to raise his hips up against me as my name meets the air. I catch it at his lips, before it falls completely, pressing him back against the car door as I move my right hand a little faster. Cas groans into the kiss, straining up, making me dig the fingers of my left hand into his hip even more to keep him down.

Breaking the kiss a second later, Cas gasps out my name again, more desperate this time, and I can tell he’s close. His fingers dig into the leather upholstery of the seats, his breath coming in hard gasps and groans as he hits his head back against the window and I pull back. I tease my thumb over the head of his cock, drawing slow circles and eliciting a strained moan of my name.

I draw out another one before Cas moves a hand to my arm, fingers biting and cold, causing me to gasp. He whimpers out my name, the noise more of a needy growl, arching up to me.

Curling my fingers back around him, I stroke him quickly, kissing him again, muffling his heavy moan against my mouth. He cums hard, straining up to me, moving his freezing hands up to my face as he relaxes back into the seat. I keep stroking him, listening to his sharp in takes of breath for a few moments more before I stop, pulling my hand out of his pressed slacks.

I press all of my weight down against him, my own breathing a little heavier, feeling his heart hammering in his chest as he slowly comes down.

Cas is completely relaxed, raking his fingers back through my hair and down my neck, causing me to shudder from how cold they are after gripping the upholstery and being pressed against the glass. He kisses me back slowly, fingers knotting into the front of my shirt as I pull back from the kiss, pressing my lips against each closed eye as his breathing evens out.

“Dean-”

“Hmm?” I press a kiss to his forehead, drawing my lips down the bridge of his nose as I slip my hand up under his shirt. Cas gasps, shifting away from my hand, brow knotting up as I kiss his mouth, trailing down to his chin and over his jaw.

“The armrest of this door isn’t very comfortable.” he mutters the words out and I can tell just from the sound of his words that he’s frowning.

I chuckle against his throat, drawing back, pressing another kiss to his lips before moving off of him. I flash him a wide grin, “Wanna pin me against the door?”


	4. On The Floor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Castiel's POV

I watch as Dean sets up a number of shot glasses in a row and when the final one is in place, his hand finds the bottle of tequila. He unscrews the lid in one deft motion, pouring it out into the cups, filling them so full that each one spills over before he moves onto the next. Once they all have amber liquid peeking over the rims, he sets the bottle down and slides eight of the shot glasses over to me, the contents sloshing out over the edge with the movement.

“Cheers, Cas.” He grins wide, eyes crinkling at the corners as he picks one up and throws it back. He slams the glass down a moment later, turning it upside down with a slight shake of his head. “Woo!”

I smile, selecting the fullest one of mine and tossing it back in the same fashion that Dean had. The alcohol burns all the way down, much hotter than I recall it being when I was an angel, warming me from the inside out. I cough as I set the cup back down neatly among its full brothers, splaying my hands against the counter as I splutter.

Dean snorts at my grimace and I look up just in time to see him throw his head back as he cackles. “You got that, Angel boy?” he laughs the words out, picking up another glass and swallowing the contents down.

“I can see why Sam didn’t agree to this.” I mutter, picking up another glass, brow knit together as I drink it down, slamming the empty glass back onto the counter.

Dean repeats the gesture with practiced ease, each shot glass going upside down on the counter when he’s finished. His drinking is graceful. He doesn’t hesitate as he swallows each shot down. Doesn’t cough or splutter and not a drop meets the counter or floor. It’s as if the few short years that he has lived has been to hone this one ability, though I know, truly, that Dean is a man of many talents.

By the time I’ve spilled half of my third shot and managed to drink the other, Dean is setting down his fifth empty shot glass with a heavy sigh. He leans against the counter, fingers dancing over to another glass as I slam my third down and pick up my fourth.

Everything seems to be a little hazy and wobbly. The tequila sloshes over my fingers as I raise the glass and throw it back, at least half of the contents managing to miss my mouth completely. As I set the empty glass down, I stumble just a little, seeing why Dean had leaned against the counter after his fifth. Following after Dean once more, I lean against the counter, as well, wiping my chin and mouth off with the back of my hand.

A dull, distant clink makes me look up and I see that Dean is reaching for another glass. I try to tally up how many he has already emptied, but it seems like every time I get them in focus, they blur together in one line so I ask instead, “How many have you had?”

My words are thick and judging by the amused look on Dean’s face, they didn’t come out as I had planned. “I think that’s enough for you, buddy. You take one more and you’re gonna be on the floor.”

“No!” I laugh the word out, grabbing another as Dean moves to step around the counter. “I can hold my liquor! I’m an angel, after all.”

“I don’t think you’re gonna make it through the whole liquor store this time, buddy.” I take a step away from him, lose my balance as I leave the support the counter provides, and before I know what’s even happening, I feel Dean’s hand grab my arm. It was a vain attempt, because not even a second later we’re both on the floor, tangled up in each others legs and arms. His weight presses down against me, keeping me pinned to the floor.

“Dammit, Cas!” The words are hot against my face, the smell of the tequila heavy as Dean attempts to lean away. The shock of the fall leaves us a moment later, just as Dean’s face flushes with embarrassment. I can’t help but dissolve into an exuberant laughter that feels as warm as the tequila had going down.


End file.
